Between the shadow and the soul
by cassiemortmain
Summary: A Sybil x Tom M-rated story, written for dorkout as part of the S/T fic exchange on Tumblr. Summer 1920 - Sybil and Tom are both married to other people. When they meet again unexpectedly in London, long suppressed feelings resurface as they embark upon a forbidden affair...
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note_

This M-rated story was written as part of the Sybil x Tom fandom Secret Santa fic exchange, convened on Tumblr by repmet (thank you for organising it!).

I received a prompt from dorkout as part of that fic exchange, where she requested Sybil and Tom be married to other people and having an affair, with various other complications for our lovely pair to deal with as well. Here is the result of that prompt. I had originally thought I could contain it in a one-shot, but in the end I had to split it, as it became a bit of an epic story, the longest I have ever written in one hit.

Dorkout - my friend, I hope you enjoy my version of the story you asked for, and I wish you a wonderful Christmas and New Year! There's plenty of angst and sexytimes ahead, as you might expect with a prompt like this one.

I will be ready to publish part 2 soon so there won't be long to wait for the conclusion. As always, I would love to know what you think!

* * *

_Summer 1920 – Hyde Park_

"The battle isn't over! The Act doesn't go far enough! Do men really think we will be satisfied that they have granted the vote to women over 30, who meet certain property requirements, when men over 21 can vote regardless of the property they own?"

The speaker was on fire, and Sybil felt herself caught up in the excitement of the crowd in Hyde Park. _Here I am, at last, at the heart of the struggle for women's rights, as I always dreamed!_ She found her mind drifting back to an afternoon long ago, in a car on the way to order a new dress, when a certain Irish chauffeur had spoken to her for the first time. A man who was passionate about the causes he believed in, who had seen beyond the class barriers to realise she was desperate to learn more about the world around her, to make a difference, and who wanted to help her do that. A man who seemed to know her better than her own family ever had, and who had become her dearest friend.

And then, that afternoon in York. She had been so surprised by his passionate declaration, and her upbringing had led her to say no to him, because she was afraid to think about what saying yes might mean. _If only he'd given me a bit more time to realise my stupid mistake…_ She had been shaken to the core when she came home from her nursing training to find he had left his post at Downton Abbey, never to be heard from again.

She sighed and turned to leave. As she headed for the gate, she tripped on a clump of grass, and felt a hand grab her own, pulling her up. She looked into her rescuer's eyes, eyes she would have known anywhere, and gasped...

* * *

Tom was standing near the back of the crowd, taking notes for a story he was working on. As the speech ended, he put his notebook away in his pocket. He saw someone stumbling towards him and instinct made him reach out to take her hand and stop her fall. As she stood up, he couldn't believe his eyes… the face that haunted his dreams was before him, lovelier than ever. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth –

"Tom, is it really you?"

_She called me Tom!_ "Milady, yes, it's me. How are you? Are you all right?"

"Quite well, thank you Tom, and how about you?"

"I'm well too, thank you for asking, milady. So – what brings you to London?"

"Please call me Sybil, Tom – none of that silly stuff matters between us. We spend most of our time in London at my husband's home – he finds country life doesn't suit him."

_Her husband…_ Tom felt as if he had been kicked in the gut.

"I hadn't heard you were married, Sybil – congratulations."

"Thank you – yes, after the war, my parents held an Armistice ball at Downton Abbey and invited a lot of their old friends, including the Duke of Favisham and his eldest son. I had met Charles before, during my season in London, and he had been very attentive to me back then, so it didn't take him long to propose to me. We were married early last year."

"Do you have any children?"

"A little boy – Charles, he's nearly six months old now. How about you, Tom – are you married?"

"Yes – I was married in 1917, to a Dublin girl I met down here not long after I arrived. We have a daughter, Brigid, she'll be three before too long."

"How wonderful for you, Tom. Being a parent is so much more fulfilling than I had ever dreamed it could be. Somehow, it almost makes up for…"

She blushed and looked down_. _He dared to put his finger under her chin, to bring her face back up to his, because he needed to see her eyes.

"Sybil, what do you mean, it almost makes up for…?"

"Please don't ask me, Tom. It's all far too late to think about what might have been. I should go. It was lovely seeing you again …"

Their eyes locked – they hadn't seen each other since that fateful afternoon in York, but for both of them it seemed as if not a moment had gone by. He thought he saw something in her face that drove him to take a huge risk, one that he knew he should not take. He took her hand –

"Can I take you out for tea somewhere, one afternoon?"

She hesitated – she knew she ought to say no, but something in her heart compelled her to do the opposite…

* * *

_Two weeks later – Shepherd Market_

Sybil hurried through the crowd. _Was he there? Had he come?_

She knew that, if Tom did come today, there would be no turning back. Since their reunion in Hyde Park, they had met at a café a couple of times, catching up on each other's lives during the last few years. He learned about her experiences working as a nurse, a job she said she hoped to pick up again "one day, if circumstances allow", and she heard of his new career as a journalist, writing for a progressive paper on social and political issues. They also talked about the kinds of subjects they used to discuss in the early days of their friendship – the continuing struggle for freedom in Ireland, women's rights and how things were changing in the post-War world. Up to that point, nothing had happened between them that they could not tell their families about, on the surface at least.

But the last time they said goodbye to each other, things had changed when he had impulsively taken her hand and kissed it. When his lips touched her skin, both of them had felt the hidden charge between them surge to the surface, like a mine exploding from the depths of the ocean. Once he raised his head and their eyes met, neither of them could look away. They crossed the Rubicon together in that moment.

After that, it all came down to practicalities. Tom knew of a little pub not far from Sybil's home in Mayfair, and they had arranged to meet there this time, instead of at the café. There was one big difference – the pub had rooms where they could be alone...

She glimpsed the top of his head through the crowd and her heart turned over in her chest – she could hardly breathe from excitement. Heedless of convention and not caring who might see her, she threw herself into his arms when she reached him, holding onto him as tightly as she could, a catch in her voice as she spoke –

"Tom, oh Tom…"

He tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss into her hair. She looked up at him, lips slightly parted, tears glowing in her eyes as one hand came up to touch his cheek. He leaned into her hand and she felt a shudder of longing travel up and down her spine. Conflicting emotions of love and guilt were warring in her heart – _I know I should not be here, I should not be doing this! But I know now that Tom is the love of my life – this is how it always should have been._

Slowly, gently, giving them both one last chance to change their minds, he leaned down to her. He pulled her closer as his mouth found hers, and they kissed for the first time. The world stopped turning for both of them then – lost in each other, eyes closed, her hands coming up around his neck, his arms tightening around her back, drawing her into him...

* * *

"Do you want to go upstairs?" Tom whispered.

Sybil nodded, taking his offered hand and following him through a low door behind the main room of the pub. They climbed the stairs to an ill-lit corridor and he led her to a door about half way along it. He took a key from his pocket to open that door, revealing a small room with very little furniture apart from a double bed, a chest of drawers and a wash stand. Then, he picked her up and carried her over the threshold – somehow to him, it felt like the right thing to do – before putting her gently down on the bed and going round to the other side, closing and locking the door as he went.

Feeling a little awkward at the enormity of what lay before them, they took off their shoes and hats. She unpinned her hair, leaving the pins by the bed and letting the glossy brown tresses fall down over her shoulders, while he shrugged off his jacket. They lay down next to each other, looking at the ceiling.

He was the first to turn to her, rolling onto his side and leaning down to find her lips with his. As they kissed again, the floodgates opened – being alone in this room, knowing that no-one knew where they were, gave them for a little while an illusion of freedom, making them feel that there was nothing to stop them being together like this, as they both longed so fiercely to be. She opened her mouth to him and he could not help moaning as his tongue moved in to find hers, his hands tangling in her hair, her arms reaching up to pull him down to her...

Dress and slip, shirt and trousers – all were soon scattered on the floor, leaving them in only their underwear, his chest now bare. His eyes widened as he saw what she was wearing under her clothes, and he reached out to touch her brassiere, his fingers finding her nipples through the sheer lacy fabric before he unfastened the unfamilar garment and lifted it from her body. She lay back against the pillows, her breasts fully exposed to him for the first time. Their eyes met and he saw she was blushing deeply as he continued to caress her...

"Sybil, ah God, you are so beautiful – even more than I ever dreamed."

"Did you dream about me, Tom?"

"I still do, often. Do you ever...?"

Sybil nodded, still too shy to say what was deep in her heart, and Tom was elated to realise that he wasn't the only one to have longed for this moment. Her eyes were shining and the look on her lovely face made him catch his breath as he leaned up above her again, stroking her tumbled hair back from her face.

"Are you sure about this? We can still change our minds."

"I'm sure – I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

His brain told him – _You can't be here – you are not free to love her_ – but he knew it was already too late. Seeing her again that day in Hyde Park had brought back feelings which had never died, even after all these years. Now that he had found her again, he knew he could never let her go, whatever the consequences...

He leaned down to her and kissed her lips again and again, sliding on top of her, savouring the feeling of her beautiful curves beneath him. He continued to move down her body, his mouth trailing deliciously along her jaw and down her throat, finding the warm swell of her breasts. He felt her hands tighten on his back, holding him close as he spent several minutes kissing her there, her nipples rising up at his touch.

"Oh, Tom, oh that feels so good, more, more…"

He traced the line of her ribcage with his lips, heading for the gentle curve of her stomach. She trembled as his tongue dipped into her navel, her hand on the back of his head, threading through his hair. Still further down… he slid between her legs, lifting her knees up and resting her feet flat on the bed, easing her knickers down from her hips and off. He rolled her stockings and garters off her legs slowly, kissing each inch of exposed skin as he did so, from her thighs to her ankles. Then, he kissed his way back up towards her warm, wet core and heard her gasp as he put his mouth on her, finding her swollen clit with his tongue.

Her hands tightened their grip on his hair, pulling him into her as he started to tease her, circling and flicking, pushing one finger inside her, then another, stroking her inside and out as he gradually increased his pace, his other hand finding hers and holding it tightly. Again and again, he brought her close to the edge before pulling back a little, wanting to draw out the sensations for her and make her orgasm, when it came, even more intense...

"Tom, please, oh please..."

He could hear her breathing becoming ragged and he knew it was time from the sighs and moans she was making. _God, she tastes so good, I don't want to stop doing this… _He held her at the brink just for one more moment before finally letting her tumble into the void. Her core pulsed around his fingers as she came over and over, her body shaking, her back arching, his name falling from her lips as she held his hand tightly in her own.

He lapped her juices, soothing her, keeping his mouth on her as she began to come back to herself, still shuddering from the aftershocks of the joy he had given her. Then, he slid back up beside her, wrapping his arms around her, gently stroking her and kissing her mouth as her heartbeat began to return to normal.

Sybil's eyes opened and she stared at him, biting her lip –

"Oh my God, what did you just do to me?"

"Sybil, do you mean you never…"

She shook her head, looking down shyly and blushing again. Tom felt a quiet jubilation that he had been the one to give her such pleasure for the first time – that was at least one thing he could carry in his heart when he had to leave her. He kept kissing her and it didn't take long for their passion to heat up again...

"Tom, please, I want you inside me…"

He reached over the edge of the bed, finding what he needed in his trouser pocket as he pulled off his drawers. He rolled the condom quickly onto his erect cock before moving on top of her and pushing into her core, feeling her arms and legs wrap around him, taking him even deeper.

He felt himself begin to lose control – he had dreamed of this moment for so many years and now that it was finally here, he could not hold himself back. He drove into her, harder each time, feeling the bed rock beneath them as she arched up to meet him, their hips moving together, their hands pulling the other closer, always closer ...

Their eyes met and he leaned down to kiss her deeply, feeling himself rapidly approaching his peak. He screwed his eyes shut, groaning aloud as his orgasm overwhelmed him, feeling her squeeze him dry as she came again, even harder this time, sighing into his mouth. He fell down on top of her, rolling her over, her hands stroking his back, her lips seeking out his own. After several minutes, she broke their kiss –

"Tom, I can't keep it in any longer. I love you so much, darling, I always have. My biggest regret is saying no to you in York when you asked me to marry you, and I was completely devastated to come home and find you were gone. I was such a fool to let you go, such a coward, my life has been empty since then."

"Sybil, oh sweetheart, you have no idea what hearing you say those words means to me. I've never stopped loving you, not for a minute. I thought I had lost you for ever when you rejected me in York. I had to get away, try to make something of my life knowing I could never be with you, but nothing could tear you out of my heart."

"Why, why did you leave Downton so suddenly, without even saying goodbye? I only said yes to Charles because I was sure I had lost you."

"I had my answer, and I couldn't bear to stay there, love. I went a little crazy – I had to try and make a fresh start. I could have gone back to Dublin, I suppose. I wasn't thinking clearly, I felt I needed to be alone, completely anonymous for a while, earn some money before I went home, and then I met Deirdre, and before I knew it…"

She pulled him down to her again – "Oh my love, I can't bear to think about it now – kiss me, please, kiss me, make it all go away…"

Their mouths met again in a kiss that left them both breathless and, for a few moments at least, their guilt was washed away by the force of their love for each other...

* * *

_A/N -_

So the affair begins... thank you for reading! In case you are wondering, the title of the story comes from the beautiful Pablo Neruda poem, Sonnet XVII.

Special thanks to Yankee Countess, who helped me brainstorm some ideas for this story – I appreciate your help, my friend! As I mentioned, part 2 of this story will be published soon. In the meantime, I would love to hear what you think of it so far. :)


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note_

Thank you so much to everyone who read/reviewed/favourited/followed this story so far - I really appreciate it!

Here's the concluding chapter - the prompt I received from dorkout requested a specific ending, which you will see below.

Again, plenty of angst and sexytimes lie ahead...

* * *

_September – Soho_

Tom held Sybil in his arms, both of them enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking as they watched the setting sun stream through the faded hotel curtains and onto their bed. His fingers were still tracing slow circles over her skin, since neither of them could bear to break the intimate connection between them just yet.

He heard her sigh as he kissed the join between her shoulder and neck, her breasts soft in his hands –

"Darling, what is it?"

"I was just thinking about the past. It's all my fault, I have to face it – if only I had had the courage to say 'yes' to you in York, we could have been together all the time, the way we always should have been, we would never had had to..."

Her voice broke on the last words and he turned her around to face him, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Sweetheart, please – don't say that. I'm the one to blame. I should have stayed at Downton and devoted myself to your happiness, the way I promised you I would, I should have waited forever for you..."

This time, she put her finger to his lips, shushing him. Tears were falling down her face freely now, and he felt tears rising up in his eyes too. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her and they let themselves cry together for a minute or two, trying to exorcise their sorrow about their past mistakes, to forgive themselves the way they had forgiven each other for the actions they had taken which had led them here.

Tom was the first to recover his composure, tightening his arms around her, kissing her between phrases as he tried to comfort her...

"Sybil – we both understand our situation – we can't change it and we both feel terrible about it. But I have to tell you – I love you so very much, my darling. Always have, always will. The hours I have passed with you are the most precious I have ever spent and I can never regret them. Although you can't be my wife in law, you will always be the wife of my heart..."

Tears still lay on Sybil's soft cheeks, but her eyes were starry as she took his hand and pressed it to her lips, then to her breast –

"Tom, I feel the same way. All my life I've been trying to find the place I belong, and with you I have finally found it. Even in this rented room, I am where I should be, because you are here, my dearest love, and I will not give you up..."

He gently kissed her tears away and pulled her to him again. The lovers lay together a little while longer, knowing that the remorse they felt for betraying their families would be the price they would always have to pay for the rapture they felt when they were together. They also knew that they were both ready to pay that price, because losing each other now was unthinkable...

* * *

_Christmas Eve 1920 __–_ Mayfair

Sybil sat at her mirror, pulling on her gloves as her maid finished her newly bobbed hair with a diamond clip. She and Charles were going to a dinner and dance that night which had been arranged by their friend Evelyn Napier to raise funds and awareness for the growing band of war widows and children in the capital at Christmas.

Her husband knocked and came into her room –

"Sybil, m-m-my dear, you look charming. Are you ready to leave?

She turned to him, smiling. Charles looked as handsome as ever in his tails, but she could also see the ever-present anxiety lurking behind his eyes. His wartime experiences had been traumatic and he had never really recovered, leading to a diagnosis of mild shell shock. When he had suggested marriage to her, she had felt a strong desire to take care of this kind, shattered man as well as she could, which seemed to her like a good enough reason to accept his proposal.

She had always felt guilty for not loving him the way she felt she ought to as his wife. This guilt was somewhat assuaged after their son was born, since his birth had left her heart overflowing with maternal love, leaving more to go around for her husband too. For a while, that had seemed to be enough, until the fateful day she had met Tom again and rediscovered a love she thought she had lost forever...

She walked over to where he was standing –

"Charles, you are looking splendid too. I'm looking forward to this evening."

He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and she deliberately brightened her smile, determined to play her expected part for the rest of the night.

"Let me call Jameson and he can have the c-c-car brought around, if you are ready."

"Yes, dear, I am quite ready."

They settled into the luxurious car and chatted sporadically on the short journey to Claridge's. The doorman saw them inside and they entered the Grand Ballroom, which had been beautifully decorated for the festive season, with a large Christmas tree in one corner. She found herself with a glass of champagne in her hand, chatting to some of the friends she and her husband had met since their move to London.

Her eyes scanned the room to see who else she knew, and she gasped as she saw a man she hadn't expected to see there – a tall, fair, well built man in an everyday suit, standing by the edge of the ballroom with a notebook in his hand. She watched in disbelief as Evelyn Napier came towards them both, bringing the man with him –

"Sybil, Charles, my dear friends, I am so happy you could be here tonight. May I introduce you to Mr Tom Branson – he is a journalist with the _Chronicle_, and he is here to cover our event tonight and help spread the word about our work with a wider audience. Mr Branson, this is Lord Houghton and his wife, good friends and strong supporters of this important cause."

Tom nodded his head – "My lord, my lady, it's an honour for me to make your acquaintance."

"Mr Branson, good of you to come. If you have any questions, we'd be happy to speak with you later this evening."

Sybil did her best to play the part of an upper class woman being polite to her social inferior, trying not to look directly into Tom's eyes as she spoke to him, afraid to reveal her feelings. Charles shook Tom's hand and exchanged a few polite words with him before turning away to speak with Evelyn.

Later that evening, when the dancing started, she found herself in the corner of the ballroom, leaning against the wall and watching the crowd. She gasped when she felt something cold on her skin – Tom had come up next to her and was holding a glass of champagne against her back, revealed by her fashionably low cut dress.

She didn't dare look at him – instead, she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, keeping her eyes fixed on her husband at the other side of the room.

"Tom, please, don't do that, not here..."

She heard him let out a low growl and felt herself shudder with desire for him. His voice was rough, deeper than usual –

"I know I shouldn't, but you look so amazing in that dress, mo ghile. Seeing you looking so beautiful and not being able to touch you…"

Her eyes still looked straight ahead –

"Darling, I know – all I want to do is touch you too, but you know very well we can't do anything here."

This time, she felt his fingers tracing up and down her spine, caressing her neck, and she closed her eyes briefly to savour the sensations he was evoking with his forbidden touches –

"Suppose someone should see us?"

"Love, please, I can't bear it. Isn't there somewhere we could sneak away to for a minute?"

This time she turned to look at him, and the naked longing she could see in his eyes made her dizzy. There was no way she could resist that look, however risky it might be. She looked back at the dancefloor -

"Meet me at the coat check in ten minutes – I'll find some reason to come out and find you there."

He dropped a daring kiss on her bare shoulder before turning to make his way out of the ballroom. She waited a few minutes, chatting to an old friend from Yorkshire before waving over at her husband, who was deep in conversation with someone she didn't recognise –

"Darling, I'm starting to feel a chill – I'm going to get my wrap…"

He nodded and smiled briefly at her before turning back to his companion. Feeling the blend of guilt and excitement that had become all too familiar, she left the ballroom and went back down the corridor towards the front door. As she approached the coat check, she felt a hand grab her own, pulling her behind the curtain...

Immediately, Tom and Sybil were kissing passionately, grabbing and clawing at each other. Although their affair had been going on for several months now, their infrequent meetings kept their desire for each other at fever pitch, and they both knew this was no time for tender caresses. They needed each other – now.

His hands slid down her back, grabbing the hem of her skirt and hitching it up to her waist, and she felt herself being lifted off the floor as he tugged her knickers off. Her legs wrapped around him – she could feel his erect cock already pushing against her, and she urged him to hurry and put on the condom which he was unwrapping.

"Tom, please, I need you so much..."

A moment later and he was inside her. She closed her eyes with the thrill of it - _He fits me so perfectly_. She reached up with one hand to grab onto a coat hook, so she could hold herself steady as he started to thrust, while the other one wrapped around his neck.

She could feel her bare back against the bricks as he drove into her, harder and faster with each stroke. His mouth was on her neck, and she could feel him biting her there – she knew he might leave a mark which would be hard to explain, but in that moment nothing mattered more than his touch on her skin. One hand held her firmly around her waist, while the other slid up to caress her aching clit. Her head fell backwards against the wall as the overwhelming sensations she had come to know so well with him started to sweep through her body...

"Sybil, you feel so amazing, I can never get enough of you..." he murmured in her ear.

Their release, when it came, was mutual and intense enough to make his knees buckle – he had to brace himself against the wall to keep them from falling. She felt tears behind her eyes as wave after wave of ecstasy flooded from her core to every part of her body, and she buried her face in his shoulder to stifle a scream...

Slowly the mood changed between them, from hunger and desire to love and longing. Tom let Sybil back down and put his arms around her as he captured her lips with his, parting them with his tongue. She sank into his arms, leaning them back against the wall, hidden among the cashmere coats and mink stoles, and their kiss quickly deepened as they clung to each other desperately for a few more minutes. As they broke apart, their whispers were low –

"Darling Tom, I love you so much... I wish we could have more than this, but I know we can't, not ever, it hurts so much..."

"Me too, sweetheart, it's torture for me to leave you, I want you with me always..."

They both knew they could not risk staying there for too long – Sybil had already caught the sound of chatter at the coat check desk and she knew it would be a matter of moments before the attendant found them. She leaned down, trying to find her knickers – luckily, Tom was standing on them so she quickly put them back on, settling her dress back down over her hips and grabbing her fur wrap from its hook.

He took her hand and led her back out into the darkened corridor. One last searing kiss that left her senses reeling, and then he released her. He whispered in her ear –

"Happy Christmas, my love _–_ never forget, my heart is yours, forever. Until we meet again, let me know as soon as you can, I can't wait…"

Putting his hands in his pockets, he strolled casually back to the ballroom, whistling under his breath. She found the ladies' room and spent a few moments fixing her lipstick and smoothing her hair back into place. She saw she had a tear on her cheek and quickly wiped it away – that was the last thing she wanted her husband to see…

* * *

_Later that evening – Willesden Green_

Tom turned the key in the door to his flat, trying not to make any noise as he came inside. He visited his daughter's room first – Brigid lay on her back, letting out soft little snores and clutching the toy dog she loved in one of her chubby hands.

His heart contracted with love as he saw her there and he felt a tear in his eye as he contemplated the mess his life had become. It was a constant struggle in his heart as he tried to balance his overwhelming love for Sybil with the strong, deep love he felt for his daughter, the daughter conceived by accident after loneliness and one too many glasses of whiskey had led him for comfort into the arms of the friendly girl from home he had been seeing casually for a few weeks, but who was none the less beloved for the manner of her birth.

He couldn't honestly say he had ever loved his wife – she was a decent, kind woman and a loving mother to their daughter. Even so, he felt very guilty every day about the way he was betraying her and their child, breaking the solemn vows he had made to her in a Catholic ceremony that could never be undone, as long as they both lived.

He went into their bedroom and she stirred – "How was your evening, dear?"

"Fine, thank you - sorry I woke you, Deirdre."

"That's all right, Tom – better get to sleep now, we have early Mass tomorrow, and then round to my aunt's for dinner." She leaned over to him as he got into their bed, kissing his cheek before rolling over on her side, away from him. She quickly fell asleep again, her long red braid lying across the pillow.

Tom was thoughtful as he undressed. He and Deirdre rarely made love – while she saw it as part of her duty to him to respond to his advances, those had come only rarely even before his affair with Sybil began, and his wife would have thought it unseemly to initiate anything herself. Their marriage was one of convenience and obligation for both of them, entered into as a way of dealing with an unplanned pregnancy. While they shared a mutual affection that had grown up over time between them, there was no love on either side.

He knew how lonely he had been before his beloved Sybil came back into his life and he knew he could never go back to that. Sometimes he wondered how his wife felt, but there wasn't sufficient closeness between them for him to feel able to ask her about anything so personal. As far as he knew, Deidre's life now was focused around the care of their child and her life in the church, which seemed to make her happy, or content at least.

He lay on his back, arms behind his head, his feelings torn as always between desperate love and guilt until he fell into an uneasy sleep_._

* * *

_Later that evening __–_ Mayfair

"I'll just visit the nursery before I turn in – good night, Charles."

Her husband kissed her lips briefly and smiled at her –

"G-g-goodnight, my dear. I hope you sleep well."

He headed for his study. Sybil knew he would be enjoying a brandy or two in the quiet of the night before retiring to his own room, as he did almost every evening now. She didn't judge him for it - the drink and the solitude seemed to help him calm his nerves enough to get a few hours' sleep, which would help him cope with each new day and the battles he still fought in his head.

She went upstairs and quietly knocked on a panelled door –

"Nanny, I'm back. How was he this evening?"

"A little angel, my lady. He grizzled a little before he had his feed, but now he is sleeping peacefully."

She looked into the cradle where her baby lay, and was overwhelmed with adoration as she looked at him, thumb in his mouth, dark curls just starting to form on his little head. The guilt which was her everyday companion rose up into her mind again – in a way she welcomed it, since she knew that with her love for Tom she was betraying her son, and his damaged father, every day.

She also knew what a terrible risk she was taking – if she were ever found out, she would be shamed throughout society as a fallen woman and considered as an unfit mother for the heir to a dukedom, meaning she would lose her son forever. But then again, knowing she had Tom in her life, steadfast in his love and devotion, somehow gave her the strength to go on giving the loving care her husband and child both needed from her...

"Good night, my darling boy. Mama will see you in the morning for your first Christmas."

She kissed her fingertips and put them to his rosy cheek before leaving him and returning to her own room, where her maid was waiting to help her get undressed. Before long she was getting into bed and, just like Tom, the battle between her passion for her lover and her self-reproach at her betrayal raged in her heart as she lay back on her pillows, alone.

**The End**

* * *

_A/N -_

Thank you for reading! I would love to hear what you think of this story.

"Mo ghile" = my darling in Irish Gaelic, per Google translate


End file.
